


Closed Doors

by GalekhXigisi



Series: Virgil Is The Dark Sides King Collection [2]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders is a Dark Side, Dark Side King Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Former Dark Side Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Gen, I wrote this for me but y'all can read it ig, I'm coining that now, Implied/Referenced Suicide, No Beta, References to Depression, Sympathetic Deceit Week, THIS IS DEPRESSING, We Die Like Men, Winged Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-01 18:26:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19183291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalekhXigisi/pseuds/GalekhXigisi
Summary: Virgil glances at the doors of the forgotten sides.





	Closed Doors

Virgil stalks the halls in silence. THey’re all empty, only a few rooms lift with actual occupants. THat’s what happened when people grew. THeir sides gradually consumed each other, taking on influence after influence. One side could be there for years before another side swooped them up or only minutes before disappearing, leaving a bouquet of flowers in their room where they once slept. Or, at least,  _ most _ of them slept. There were a few that didn’t sleep, never needed it or canceled out sleep, such as Insomnia. However, Insomnia was no longer around, now nothing more than another bit of Virgil. 

 

These…  _ Fusions, _ as Emile had once called them, usually only leave their hosting side with minor little changes. It was things like tinting their hair a tiny bit more, adding a freckle or two, making them a bit taller, nothing ever really  _ noticeable. _ But… All dark sides had features, ones that screamed that they were dark, identifying them as  _ something else. _ Typically, it was small things, ones like Deceit’s snakely side or Wrath’s little demon-like wings. They all went nameless, making up their own names as time went on. Unlike the lighter sides, there was simply nothing to identify them differently other than their traitly names and the small features. He could distinctly remember Sleep’s raccoon tail, though, still fresh in his head. 

 

He stalks by Wrath’s door, sad eyes looking over it with a frown. The room was decorated in dark red and even darker blue flowers, blossoming from the floor and stalking up the red-colored furniture. It was covered in webs now, all created by Bitsy, who sat on his desk just a few doors away. He peers in with a deeper frown, head pressed in slightly. Everything that pissed Thomas off sat in the room. It was hot as could be, too hot for any real flowers to blossom, much less thrive as much as they were. Wrath had been the first side to appear and the first to be consumed, going to Logan and Roman after the two had a fight. A few light blue and yellow flowers sat in there, too, decorating the patch with hints of Deceit and Morality each. He’s surprised that only one purple flower litters between it all, flecked with black and blue. 

 

He shuts the door with a somber sigh. Wrath may have been especially rough with Virgil, but the side had taught him a lot of things. He especially helped with the  _ fight _ part of Anxiety, fight or flight a giant part of both his general self and the sides he had slowly consumed. Regret follows, most purple flowers covering the room. A few splashes of yellow and light blue occasionally pepper their way in. Regret had disappeared the same day as Depression and Grief/Mourning, the other two rooms 99% purple flowers now, just like so many of the others. He had even earned the nickname  _ The Collector _ after having singlehandedly taken out three sides in the span of an hour. It didn’t help that Depression had willingly given up. Virgil knows the room has it’s own tiny bit of yellow and light blue, too, but far less. 

 

Tranquility belonged mostly to a tsunami of bright blue, almost completely covered. Most of the furniture that decorated it was near unidentifiable. The hues of dark blue and red only make the green of Envy’s room flare just a few feet down the hall. None of the darker sides held to any light or neutral hopes. Virgil hadn’t even originally  _ been _ Anxiety. He was originally Fight or Flight,  _ Fear _ by extension. He couldn’t remember a time where he hadn’t had both sides, but Anxiety had just  _ bloomed _ one day, getting swallowed up by Fight or Flight only  _ seconds _ after being created. The only side that consumed the least amount of other was Lust, who only had some of Greed. Most of Greed had gone to Roman and Deceit, peppered in with the other three main sides. 

 

Virgil had two rooms, though. One sat on the dark side, fused with the dead. The other was in the neutral/light sides. Remy was there, raccoon tail and all, with newly plopped in Deceit. All the morally grey sides that were left were the three, as well as Lust, but Lust mostly stayed in his room,  _ thankfully. _ Worry had been there at one point, too, but their room now sat just between the neutral and dark sides, covered in that flood of purple and mixture of others. He had disappeared just a few days in, just like the others. Virgil could still feel Grief and Depression fighting in his stomach, as well as a bit of Envy. Virgil had lost count of which sides he had consumed the most of. 

 

Virgil had mother henned many of the sides after he was created. He taught many of them right from wrong, taught them Flight was likely much better than FIght more often than not,  _ especially  _ if they pissed off Wrath more than the side already was. When ones disappeared, he sobbed. Deceit was usually on the receiving end of those cries, comforting the Mourning side mourning Mourning. It was far from ideal, but Virgil somehow still found himself on top, reigning as the king of the Dark Sides and the Dark Imagination’s kingdom. Roman had called it the Kingdom of the Dead, unaware of Virgil ruling over the dimension without a care. It was orderly and much less sad than Roman always described it to be. 

 

His wings coil around himself, six of them in all. Two of them were from Depression, the side giving himself up. The bottom two… Well, he isn’t exactly sure where they came from, but he at least knew that they had appeared one day. He thinks it’s from a side that had yet to fully form, the carpet ripped out from under their feet, dead within seconds. It happened far too often with Virgil at the helm of things, the King of the Dark Sides unable to do give them their lives back. He knew that he could no longer dissect his own personality from Fear and Anxiety’s own, much less Depression’s, but they were embedded in him and he doubted that if there  _ were _ a way to get all the sides back, he couldn’t unfuse with them. 

 

Deceit stalks beside him, brows furrowed. A wing coaxes it’s way around the other neutral side, the two silent as they walk. They both mourn the loss of the other’s, the gentle blue lighting up from underneath the door that still sat closed. Every single time and emotion was used, their rooms gave a gentle pulse, a reminder that they were still there. Sadness and Depression’s doors both light up with purple and blue, too, signaling what Virgil and Deceit already knew. Every single walk down the hall went the same way. Virgil silently regrets not just sinking down and popping into the second room, but he can’t find the energy to do so. Sloth lights up a gentle green, though it always was, decorated with the silver flowers from Remy. 

 

“It’s okay,” Deceit mumbles, voice low and calm. The yellow door doesn’t light up. It’s only a few doors down. It would most notably show if a lie was being used. Instead, just down the hall in a room decorated with an array of flowers, Authenticity lights up a soft green, much more calming than when the yellow room lit. Virgil leans into the older side’s embrace, slowly coiling around the other. He was light as all Hell, agile and lithe for accuracy in both fight and flight. “We’ll be okay,” he promises as he scoops the dark king up. 

 

Virgil silently coils around him. He knows that somewhere over the edge of light and dark, the soft blue room lights up, love and care going into the statements. Pink illuminates the hall, somewhere at the far end.  _ Love _ had been consumed by Passion. Passion had been absorbed by Morality and Creativity. The dark king just coils around the deceitful side. He was supposed to be the strongest, he knew, but he was simply the side with the most traits under his belt. He didn’t like that, no, but he could endure it. He didn’t have much a choice, anyway. He knew that if anyone were to consume him, they’d certainly get far more than they bargained for, more dark side than anything else. 

 

“Everything is going to be alright.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I like the idea of this and I'm coining Virgil as the dark side king, fuck yeah. 
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